Closer Magazine September 2012 Pdf 12 -

We spend so long trying to be the perfect girlfriend, the perfect employee, the perfect daughter, that we forget to be the perfect friend to ourselves .

On page 34, we talk to three real women who did something radical last weekend: they turned off their phones. No Instagram stalking. No frantic WhatsApp groups. One of them, 32-year-old receptionist Chloe from Manchester, spent Saturday morning just staring at a wall. “I cried,” she told us. “Because I realised I hadn’t been still for ten years.”

Permission to cancel plans without a medical emergency. Permission to eat the leftover pasta standing up and call it dinner. Permission to admit that you don’t love the Fifty Shades trilogy. Permission to go to bed at 9:15pm on a Saturday. Closer Magazine September 2012 Pdf 12

So go on. Be selfish for five minutes. The world will still be spinning when you come back. And honestly? You’ll be much nicer to everyone else when you do.

There’s a particular kind of sadness that creeps in around the third week of September. The BBQ tongs are back in the drawer. The last of the rosé has been drunk. And somehow, even though it’s still technically ‘back to school’ season, we’re already feeling the weight of those darker nights pressing against the window pane. We spend so long trying to be the

Remember that promise you made yourself in June? “This summer, I’ll relax.” Did you? Or did you spend July worrying about the credit card bill, August stressing about the kids being bored, and the first week of September pretending you love making packed lunches?

In 2012, we are expected to be available 24/7. We are expected to have the body of Cheryl Cole, the patience of the Queen, and the social life of Kate Middleton. It’s a fantasy. And it’s making us miserable. No frantic WhatsApp groups

Here at Closer , we’ve noticed a trend in your emails this month. They aren’t about the latest TOWIE drama or the X Factor judging panel’s new haircuts. They’re about guilt . Guilt that you haven’t lost the ‘holiday weight’. Guilt that you’re already planning a Netflix marathon instead of a night out. Guilt that your washing-up pile looks like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.